Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key part one Prey Base
by the morrighan
Summary: These stories are a continuation from the season 6 stories to be found in the T section. This is the first story of five. With the city of Atlantis submerged John Sheppard not only faces enemies from without but also enemies within.
1. Chapter 1

Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key

Part One: Prey Base

John Sheppard was brooding.

He sat alone in the conference room, which had become his impromptu office of sorts. He eschewed using the space that had once been the domain of first Elizabeth Weir, then Richard Woolsey. Instead his command post was the conference room and there he sat, a man alone and apart at a too large table surrounded by empty seats.

He reclined in the chair, long legs stretched across the table, crossed at the ankles. His combat boots and black pants were a dark stain on the wooden surface, harsh and dour. His arms were folded across the expanse of his lean, muscled torso, arms bare as the black t-shirt hugged his form.

He was a man in black, which matched his mood perfectly.

He licked his lips as his keen, emerald gaze was locked onto a single monitor, one among several in the room. He stared hard at the single screen, although not much was displayed upon it. It was a static-filled array of darkness and the planet on which Atlantis resided. It was a little blue ball spinning and spinning in the emptiness of space. Except that it wasn't quite empty.

Two indistinct blips hovered in orbit around the planet.

John scowled, shifting on the hard chair. He rubbed his chin, feeling the day's growth of scruff that lined his strong jaw but not caring. Shaving every day was the least of his concerns now. His gaze was locked onto that screen, onto those two seemingly inconsequential blips and what they represented.

The enemy was still out there.

It had been a month since Atlantis had been evacuated of all but a skeleton crew to keep watch. A month since John had made the command decision to sink the city and to keep it hidden from the new aliens that were threatening to destroy it. They were too powerful to meet head-on so John had no other option but to hide the city after evacuating nearly everyone from it.

He hated hiding but knew he had no choice.

Not since the Daedalus had been destroyed.

Not since the dialing to Earth had nearly drained a ZPM, leaving Atlantis woefully limited.

Still he would not abandon his post. He would maintain the expedition and defend the city to the death, if need be.

He hoped it would not come to that.

He had selected his skeleton crew very carefully, knowing that the fewer people the longer they would be able to hold out under the ocean and remain undetectable. Many had volunteered to stay, some even insisting, but John's decisions had already been made in his mind and his stance was quite firm on who should stay and who should leave. Some of the decisions had been easy; some hard, but all had been made efficiently without consulting anyone else.

The ones who had refused to stay still rankled, however.

One in particular still pissed him off, however much he had understood the reasons for her decision to abandon Atlantis.

He still felt a fission of betrayal at Teyla Emmagan's decision.

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"_What?"_

_John's voice snaps like a whip, and he realizes he should have been more polite, but Teyla's words had felt like a punch to the gut and he had reacted almost violently._

_Teyla is calm, as always, as she stands in her quarters. They are nearly empty as her belongings are already packed up and waiting with her husband Kanaan and their son Torren at the Stargate. "I have decided to return to New Athos, to help my people should these invaders to our galaxy head their way. I will not stay here in Atlantis with you, John."_

_John stares at her, uncomprehending for a moment. Emotions flit across his handsome face but he steels himself, revealing none of the confusion and anger within him. Or so he thinks as he stares at his friend and teammate. "Why? Do you think we will be destroyed after all?"_

"_No. If it was just me then of course I would remain with you here, in the city, even under the waves. But it is not just me anymore, John. I have to think of Kanaan and of Torren most of all. He will be safer on New Athos then here."_

"_I see. You think the fuglies will find us and destroy us? You doubt my ability to protect this—"_

"_Not at all. I will not risk my son, John. That is the point and nothing else."_

"_Is it? You really believe he will be safer on that planet? What if the fuglies show up? What then? What will you do? Offer them tea?" he sneers, unable to help himself. He feels betrayed although he knows that is not the case._

_Teyla arches a brow at his remarks, but replies calmly, "I do. I must be with my people. Even though I am no longer their leader I am still of them, and I will do what is best for my son."_

"_I see."_

"_Do you?" she counters, dubious. "When you have a child you will understand. When Atlantis rises once more I shall be with my people and together we will greet you as allies and friends. Besides, would it not be prudent to have a trustworthy ally out there when you do raise the city?"_

_John grunts and nods briskly, conceding the point but he is still miffed and scowls. "If that's your decision, Teyla, I can't stop you. I don't understand it, but I respect your decision nonetheless."_

_Teyla smiles and steps to him. She touches his arm. "John, one day you will understand. I have no less faith in you to protect this city. When Atlantis is restored I shall return, have no doubt. But now I must put my son first, ahead of everyone, including you."_

_John sighs. "Things were a lot less complicated before you had that kid."_

_Teyla's smile broadens. "Indeed they were, colonel."_

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John abruptly straightened in his chair, blinking to remove the two blips that even now danced in front of his eyes. He frowned, reaching for his bottle of beer. He sipped the amber liquid, finding the taste satisfying, distracting him from more serious concerns.

But not for long.

He glanced at the other screens. They intermittently flickered, relaying data through sporadic power cycles. Power must be conserved at all costs, and everyone has had that drilled into them repeatedly by Rodney McKay. Even with the central core of the city being the only part usurping power there is still a massive drain because of the shield holding back the ocean.

Rodney had set up a rotating power grid and so far the city was running smoothly under it. But as always the physicist worried about power consumption and every day he would ask John how long they would be imprisoned under the waves.

And every day John could only shrug and point to the two ships still hovering in orbit.

He wished he had an answer for his friend, for everyone, but he didn't. As long as the enemy lingered Atlantis had to remain hidden and silent, like a precious gem tucked away in the shadows and lost to all but a few who knew of her existence.

John smiled, thinking of his friend. He hadn't even had to ask Rodney to stay. The physicist had volunteered on the spot.

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"_I've already calculated the needs of the city versus the power requirements of the shield and if we cut consumption down to only the core of Atlantis theoretically we could survive submerged for a few years, given the decrease in population and use of resources, of course, divided by the necessary primary systems to keep running online and the secondary defensive—"_

_John looks over as Rodney is walking next to him in the hallway, talking a mile a minute and continually referencing his data pad. "I didn't want to just assume you would—"_

"_Don't be stupid, John, of course I am staying so you don't even have to ask me because quite frankly you couldn't run the city without me, certainly not at such extreme power cuts despite your ATA gene and frankly I would be insulted if you even thought otherwise."_

"_Actually I was thinking of asking Zelenka to stay," John teases with a smirk as the two men round the corner._

_The comment stops Rodney in his tracks and he looks up from his data pad. "What? Are you crazy? That is insane! Oh sure, Radek's a pretty good scientist but he is no way as competent in these more advanced systems as I am! What are you trying to do, John, sink the city and then just leave it there? You'll never be able to raise the city without me, let alone keep it running at on a substandard power grid while maintaining the shield at full power! And then there are the scans!"_

"_The scans?" John asks, as if having no clue._

"_The scans!" Rodney flares, mistaking his friend's sarcasm for genuine puzzlement. "You will be wanting to run scans to see if anyone is out there! To see how long the fuglies will be in orbit or if the Wraith show up! And then there's the Penning trap! Only I can deduce its construction and somehow turn the thing into either an endless power source or a weapon!"_

"_I would prefer a weapon," John drawls._

"_Of course you would," Rodney says with a sigh, but he sobers. "And after losing the Daedalus I think I agree with you. And trust me you don't want anyone else but me toying with a device that holds both matter and antimatter, no matter how small." He briefly smiles at his pun, but becomes serious. "I am staying, John, and that's non-negotiable."_

_John nods and briefly touches his friend's shoulder. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Rodney."_

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John moved to his feet, gaze raking over the other screens. So far the scans hadn't revealed much except the fact that the enemy were still in orbit. There were two massive ships that had neither blasted the planet with weapons nor had attempted any kind of landing. The scans had to be sporadic so they would not be detected, but so far it appeared that the ruse was succeeding.

Atlantis was undetected.

For now.

John ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the monitoring of power levels, the ever-present consumption levels rising and falling before relaxing into a steady glut. He moved to another screen and tapped a key. Instantly the city responded and the tally of remaining Drones appeared.

The number was low, too low to even contemplate an attack. At least not yet.

Most of the Drones had been expended in the first assault, which had resulted in the serious damaging of a fugly ship, but it had been too many all at once and a careless waste of resources. John had not been to blame, however. It had been Carson Beckett who had relentlessly pursued that enemy ship, utilizing the second Ancient Chair that John had taken from a sister city and had joined to Atlantis' own Chair in a bold bid to bolster their defenses.

It had almost worked.

Until Carson had been too connected to the city and had begun to act erratically, using up nearly over half of the Drones. He had been injured as well, but Doctor Porter had saved his life and now the good doctor was fine and stable.

At least he appeared fine and stable.

John had begun to wonder about the doctor and his almost fanatical insistence to remain in the city.

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_John strolls into the infirmary, weaving round clusters of medics and nurses who are busily tallying supplies. Many are teary-eyed as they prepare to depart Atlantis for Earth. He heads for a man in a white coat. "Carson? Will you stay?" He cuts to the point, having no time for any social niceties._

_Carson turns to him, data pad in hand. He smiles. "Of course, John. I will stay."_

"_I mean there probably won't be any need for a doctor, but since you have the strongest ATA after me I just think we could use you when we…oh. You'll stay?"_

_Carson smiles. "Yes, John. I have no intention of leaving this city."_

_John feels a little unnerved by the doctor's smile and the brief coldness in his blue eyes. "Look, doc, I can't make you stay or anything. I'm just asking, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't think we had a chance of surviving this."_

"_I know that, John. Of course I am staying, so don't worry." The doctor turns away and moves to a group of medical personnel. "Like I'd leave her in your care?" he mutters with a trace of bitterness that is very unlike him._

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John walked through the city. Shadows chased after him, ahead of him as he passed beneath the emergency lighting. Small pools of amber lit his way, making the blues and the greens of Atlantis muted and hushed. Sometimes the lights briefly flickered as if greeting him and John acknowledged the city with a curt nod.

He made his way down to the armory. It was very dark, quiet, but John touched the wall and a soft light illumined the room for him. An array of weaponry greeted his gaze, rows and rows of P90s, Wraith stunners, a few bazookas and a case of C-4. Smaller guns were stored along one wall. Another wall was lined with lockers belonging to the various marines that had been serving under his command, had been serving Atlantis.

Most of them he had sent through the 'Gate back to Earth. The necessity of keeping the city's population dictated that he must sever himself from nearly all of the marines. If it came down to a fight in the city stealth would win out over sheer numbers. John was convinced of this. He had seen the fuglies firsthand and knew their strengths, both physically and through their weapons.

He had already lost a man to them.

Major Lorne.

John vowed he would not lose another.

Nevertheless he knew he would need reliable soldiers with him. He had selected two. Major Jason Reynolds had agreed to stay immediately. Ronon Dex had agreed as well, but John could see his friend's reluctance and he wondered at it. He realized it had nothing to do with ever doubting John's abilities or their chances of success, or even with his recent nuptials with Amelia Banks. It had everything to do with something else.

Ronon had been afraid.

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"_What are our chances?"_

_As always Ronon cuts to the chase with a practical question, thus avoiding the verbiage that most people employ when answering a question. John smiles. "I'll take that as a yes, you'll stay?" The Satedan nods but there is a strange hunch to his shoulders that John has never seen before. "Fifty-fifty," he answers with a shrug. "Sixty-forty, maybe," he adds, seeing the skeptical look on his friend's face. "Look, I need a few men I can trust in a fight."_

"_You think it will come down to a fight?"_

"_It might."_

"_A face to face fight?" _

_There is a twitch to Ronon's face and John recalls how the Satedan had been seriously injured by one of the fuglies. He recalls hearing Ronon's scream and he hopes to God he never hears that sound again. "Probably not, but if it comes to that I need men I can trust in a fight. To defend this city at all costs. Men who have something worth saving besides the city." He hates playing that card but it is a necessary evil._

_Ronon nods, considering. He shifts his stance as if the pain of his injury has returned. "You think you can win?"_

"_I think we can win," John changes the pronoun, stressing it. "So you will stay?"_

_There is a long pause, a pause pregnant with uncertainty. Once John would have been confident the Satedan would have followed him to hell and back, but not anymore. Something has changed and John doesn't know how to restore whatever Ronon has lost._

"_Okay. I'll stay," Ronon says at last, but he looks far from happy about it._

"_Thanks," John says, needing something to say. There's an awkward pause and then Ronon turns and leaves John standing in the armory, alone._

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John checked his 9mm then restored it to the holster on his thigh. Satisfied he left the room. He brushed his fingers along the wall and the lights faded to black at his command. His connection to the city was stronger now, as if after everything he endured for it somehow they are even more closely joined.

Except that the city felt different.

John couldn't explain it. He tried to blame it on the lower power levels, or on the fact that he only accessed the systems when absolutely necessary. It had nothing to do with the fact that the persona of the city had tried to literally absorb him into itself.

He still shivered at the memory of that cold, icy touch.

He knew that something was off, but he couldn't explain what it was. Everything was functionally normally and every system was in working order. Every simulation that Rodney ran came back fine. Still John knew something was off but he couldn't articulate it.

He had had even less success explaining to Richard Woolsey why he should stay with Atlantis instead of the expedition leader.

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"_Because you can talk to the city? That's the reason you should stay instead of me?" Richard circles his desk, too upset to sit down. He circles it like a shark as John stands between the two chairs, undisturbed but surprised at the other man's almost vehement objections._

"_Yes," John answers simply, but before Richard can begin his protest anew John continues. "And I am the military commander. It's my job to stay here and to protect this city at all costs by any means. Our people will need you at the SGC on Earth, much more than they will need me. It only makes sense that I remain here to guide the ship, so to speak."_

_Richard frowns. He is both angered and relieved at the same time and this makes him highly uncomfortable. "To follow your analogy, colonel, you will go down with the ship, as if you were the captain? I am the leader of this expedition and therefore it is my responsibility to—"_

"_To look after our people first and foremost. My job is to defend this city."_

"_And you can talk to it?"_

_John sours at the skepticism on Richard's face. "Yeah. Look, this ATA thing…it's stronger now. Much stronger than it ever has been so if we have any chance, any chance at all to save this city I have to be here with her, with it," he corrects quickly. He folds his arms across his chest as Richard stands at his desk, staring. "You take care of our people over there. I will take care of the city here."_

"_And if you can't hold out against the enemy?"_

_John shrugs again. "Then at least we will have saved as many as we can. At least we will have tried."_

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John strode purposefully along the hallways, heading for the laboratories. Most were dark, silent, devoid of scientists, but a few were operational and utilized. It felt odd to be walking the halls of Atlantis. It felt like a ghost town where John was the hapless sheriff waiting for the bad guys to saunter out of the sunset and challenge him.

He smiled briefly at the comparison.

Water bubbled quietly in the walls, and as always he could sense and hear the quiet hum of the city's systems. He paused near a window to glance outside. Except instead of skyline and clouds the vast ocean depths met his eye. The cold blue water and killing pressure were held back by the city's shield. It was a pinkish veneer that turned the water's colors to a greenish violet murk. Fish swam by, darting this way and that, avoiding a collision with the giant spaceship parked in their midst.

It was like living in an enormous aquarium.

Hearing a woman's voice he quickened his stride. His boots clattered on the cold floor, sounding eerily loud in the mostly vacant city. A smile curved his lips, recognizing the voice and the tone, but his smile faded as more serious concerns filled his mind.

It sounded as if she was having yet another episode, another hallucination.

John found himself debating for the hundredth time if having Moira O'Meara remain behind with him had been a wise decision, or a harmful one.

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"_The thing is…the thing is…the thing is I need you here. I mean I need your expertise on the fuglies, er, the Homo erectus," John quickly amends before Moira can correct him. He is uncharacteristically awkward but plunges onward. "And whatever's happening to you I think you would be better off here than there on Earth where they wouldn't understand what's going on, not like I do. And Carson will be here to help too. The thing is…the thing is." A gentle pressure halts his speech as Moira places her fingers along his lips._

_Moira smiles at him, meeting his gaze at last, still uncomfortable over the changes to her one eye. The purple circle around her pupil is a result of the trauma she had experienced and she is shy about it still. "Of course I will stay, you silly man. You really think I would leave you? I, I mean I know you will need my expertise on the aliens and I am very close to deciphering their language plus I have a fuller DNA profile to—" she stammers as she is awkward now._

_John smiles and gently moves her fingers from his mouth. "Thanks, Moy. You know that's not the only reason," he drawls, voice low as his arms encircle her and bring her closer to him._

_Moira's hands slide up his chest, keeping a little distance between them. Only a little, however, as she is drawn to him like a moth to a flame and cannot resist. "I won't leave you, John. I…I can't."_

"_And I won't let you go, Moy." He leans close and kisses her, a soft brushing of his lips across hers with the promise of passion to come. "Besides…you still owe me an answer."_

"_What? I just gave you one, John! I will stay here with you and—"_

"_No, baby, not that." He smiles charmingly, freeing her and tilting his head. "I'm still waiting for a proper answer to my proposal."_


	2. Chapter 2

Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key

Part One: Prey Base2

Moira O'Meara was working.

She sat at a console, busily typing on the keyboard. The noisy clatter of her fingers on the keys was loud in the quiet, empty lab. Twirling double helixes of DNA filled the screen, side by side comparisons of two human species. Other programs were running as well on other systems. A complicated language translation was attempting to find a common denominator between two entirely different languages spoken by the two species.

She tried not to look up from the computer, but invariably her gaze was drawn to the darker parts of the lab. And there it stood. The injured Homo erectus she had encountered on the Hive Ship was there, as always. It was beckoning with one hand, beseeching. It was bruised, battered, missing one eye and lacking the neural implant that its entire species had.

It was the same neural implant that had been attached to Moira and had given her an avalanche of nearly indecipherable information about and from the new aliens. The resulting trauma had changed one of her eyes permanently but with no impediment to her vision.

It was also creating the hallucinations.

Moira looked away, looked back only to scramble out of her chair as yet another Homo erectus was in the lab, behind her now, much like the one she had imagined seeing earlier. A hallucination so vivid she had felt it when it had hit her and tried to assault her as she had been trying to disconnect John from the Ancient Chair and the city.

"No, no, you're not real! None of you are real!" she protested, as yet another of the species came into view. She shook her head, trying to quell the panic that set her heart racing in her chest. "No! Go away! Go away! Just go away!" she shouted. She grabbed a book and threw it towards them as they shuffled closer, closer, closer. "Go away!"

"Whoa!" John ducked as the heavy book flew past him, pages fluttering as it hit the floor with a thud. He hastened to the biologist. "Moira? What the fuck? Moy?"

Moira stared at him, past him. The aliens were gone. She met John's gaze. "I…I can't stop it, I can't stop it, John! I can't stop it, I can't…" She burst into tears and crumpled into his arms, sobbing, clutching and clinging to him.

"Ssh, ssh, sweetheart," he soothed, kissing her brow as his arms enfolded her. He glanced round the empty room as if expecting some monster to be lurking in the shadows. There were none, just like they were always none. He eyed the computers. He watched the scrolling data. Most of it was gibberish to him and he would need Moira to interpret for him even though it seemed to make her condition worse. He scowled. "Ssh, ssh. I'm here now. I'm right here," he said into her hair. Gently he caressed her back as her tears dampened his black t-shirt.

At last she calmed, relaxing into his solid surety and protection, although there was no danger to be found except in her mind. She stepped back as his hold loosened. She wiped her eyes. "Sorry, John, sorry, I, I, I…"

"Ssh." He lifted her face to his and kissed her, tasting her tears and her fear. He kept kissing her as more sensuous concerns dominated, but she deftly freed herself and turned away from him.

Moira procured a Kleenex from her pocket and wiped her eyes, blew her nose. "John, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she softly repeated.

"Are they here now?" he gently asked, waiting.

Moira turned back to him, gaze darting shyly around the room. She visibly relaxed and met his concerned gaze. "No."

"Good." He stepped past her, shutting off the monitors, one by one until the room was plunged into a blackness only relived by the flicker of emergency lights.

"I should, I should take more pills and—"

"No. No more pills, Moy." He took her hands into his, drawing her away from the computers.

"John?" she asked, startled. He was serious, very serious as the lights and shadows played across his handsome face, highlighting his intense gaze, the stubble, the curve of his perfect lips.

"Let's go to bed, Moy. Together. I've had enough of this shit, haven't you?"

"I..what shit? John?" He was trying to lead her towards the doorway but she yanked her hands out of his and stood, staring at him, heart thudding for a very different reason now. The press of his lips still danced across hers.

"Being apart," he clarified, voice low, husky with need as his gaze raked over her curves. "And it's not helping either."

"But, but Carson said we should—" she began nervously.

"I don't give a fuck what Carson said! It's not working!" John regretted his tone as she took a step back from him, brown eyes widening in surprise at the flare of fury. He took a step towards her, holding out his hand. "Sorry. We're going to bed, Moy, after some very intense sex, all right? It's been a month, damn it! A month!" he complained sourly.

An apology hovered on Moira's lips. Instead she glared at him, hands on her hips. "What do you expect, John? We've been working our asses off just getting the city submerged and running properly not to mention trying to gather as much intel as we can about the Homo erectus and their language!"

"I know! That doesn't preclude sex! Damn it, Moira, I have needs and so do you! The only erectus that should be concerning you is this one, right here!" He pointed at his crotch as he walked towards her.

Moira snorted, holding her ground. "Where? I can't see it, John! Maybe I should get my magnifying glass!"

He smirked, glared and caught her arms. He gently pushed her backwards until she hit a wall and he pinned her there. "No need for that, baby." He kissed her. It was a long, sloppy kiss as he ground his body into hers, physical reactions obvious as were hers as she squirmed deliciously.

"John!" she flared as he drew back a little. His rough fingers slid up to grasp her wrists, to pull them up over her head and keep them pinned to the wall. The abrasion of his heavy stubble was scratchy, arousing, contrasting sharply with the softness of his lips. Every hard line of his body had been pressing hers, insisting, demanding, dominating and she found herself surrendering with joyful abandon.

John smiled. He saw the acquiescence in her eyes, the same hunger and need. He licked his lips. He let his gaze rake over her as he adjusted his hold slightly, considering. He met her gaze. "I am going to do you against this wall, then fuck you on our bed until you beg me, beg me to stop," he promised, voice raw with lust and need. "Okay?" He raised a brow.

Moira smiled. She just smiled.

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The bell pinged. It was a soft, shy sound, lost in the quiet susurration of the waters bubbling in the walls, lost in the impassioned noises emanating from the bed. Nevertheless John heard it but chose to ignore it. Moira was arching under him, whimpering softly as her nails dug into his arms. Golden light fell haphazardly across the bed, illuminating their writhing, naked bodies; illuminating the curve of one breast, the hard pink nipple that John's tongue circled and circled until his mouth trailed lower, lower along her squirming body.

Moira gasped, clutching as John's scruff scratched along her skin, as his hands shoved her thighs wide. His wet, sloppy kisses left a trail as he groaned and grunted, seeking his quarry with the utmost determination. She lost hold of his arms as the golden light slid along his tensing back, along the flexing muscles of his torso and sides as he grunted, moving lower and lower.

John felt intoxicated. It had been a month and although he had indulged in some rough, quick sex in the lab his needs were still not assuaged. He was taking his time now, exploring and indulging in every wanton, sensual desire as he stroked and taunted, as he pinned and wooed Moira to where he needed her to be. His fingers flexed along her thighs and he shoved her thighs wide again, holding down her squirming body as his mouth skimmed along her shaven mound and tasted the hot arousal that beckoned him like a bee to a flower.

But the bell pinged again and John paused, freeing that most delicious bud as Moira cried out and his name escaped her lips in a stuttering rush of impending orgasm.

Moira fell back, staring at John's head between her legs, his long, lean body poised along the bed, along her. The golden light fell on the strong lines of his broad back, on his clenching buttocks as he moved, shifting his very erect cock along her thigh as he lifted. There was an expression of annoyance and lust on his handsome face that made her shiver and flood all at once. "John?" she whispered, tensing.

John met her gaze. He smiled. He merely smiled and slid up her body.

He thrust into her without a word.

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Rodney McKay was eating.

He knew he should be more careful with the rations, but he also knew they had plenty of supplies to last a few years, if necessary. Of course he didn't believe this would be necessary and he was nervous and when he was nervous he had to eat. Hence he devoured the bag of chips, munching over his computer as he eyed the dire calculations.

He hit the call button again and it pinged, but there was no response from the military commander.

The lights were flickering, flickering but Rodney ignored them, instead concentrating on the latest scrolls of data filling the monitor with equations of blue and red. Instead of the physics lab he was sequestered at a deeper level. He was working in the old containment chamber, from which his doppelganger Rod from an alternate reality had arrived via the circular power generator. The whole thing was defunct now, drained of both energy and potential.

It was still a secure containment field, however, and thus Rodney had sequestered the Penning device into it with the utmost care as he ran simulation after simulation. The small, harmless-looking object contained a homogeneous static magnetic field and a spatially inhomogeneous static electric field that held both matter and anti-matter in charged particles. The false atom created the trap, thus nullifying the otherwise catastrophic effects.

So far it had baffled Rodney, but he had been determined to control it and turn the device into an unending power source for Atlantis.

Until the destruction of the Daedalus had changed his priorities.

Now the physicist was determined to take the exotic particles and turn them into a weapon. He was driven not only by revenge, but also to save the city of Atlantis from overwhelming odds.

Rodney scowled and hit the button again. He swore, stood and made his way to the comm unit on the wall, brushing stray crumbs off his blue t-shirt. He hit the PA button. "John! John, respond! I need you in lab nine now! John!"

Silence answered him.

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John groaned, thrust after frenzied thrust making him shudder in physical pleasure. Moira's tightness enfolded him, muscles contracting and releasing as he plunged faster and harder towards the abrupt release he had been craving. He ejaculated wildly, grunting loudly and deeply as the bed rocked noisily under them.

Moira cried out, losing her breath as John kept moving until the climax blossomed and rendered her into a helpless puddle of passion. She clutched, writhing as tears filled her eyes, as the sex was wild, hot, incredibly overwhelming and she tried to remember if it had always been like this with John. She fell back, trying not to shout his name as John thrust a few more times before falling on top of her in blissful exhaustion.

The bell pinged again. John sighed and lifted to slide out of Moira, eliciting a breathy whimper. He slid up, kissed her deeply before rolling off her and snatching his earpiece from the table. "Yeah?" he grunted, voice deep, barely comprehensible.

"John? John, I need you in lab nine now!" Rodney's voice sounded irate, which was nothing new.

"Why?" John asked, after swallowing. He dearly needed a drink. He shifted on the bed as Moira cuddled up against his back, trailing soft kisses along his shoulder to his neck.

"I've done some simulations and the readings aren't good, but I think I can overcome them but I need you here to go over them and to power up the power conduits, however briefly to—"

"Whatever. On my way." It was easier to just agree then to have the physicist explain more than was necessary. John tapped his earpiece and sighed. He rolled onto his back as Moira scooted away from him. "Shit," he complained tiredly.

Moira slid on top of him, fingers running along his scruff, his lips, up to his wayward brown hair. "John?"

He kissed her, arms encircling her, keeping her body pressed to his. "Sorry, baby. Duty calls, but I'll be back, I promise. Rest up for round two."

"Round two?" she teased with a smile, kissing him. She snuggled on him, fingers sliding down to play along his chest hair as he caressed her back. "Don't you mean round three, sweetie?"

He chuckled. "Oh yeah, I guess I do. Round three." He closed his eyes, resting. The bed was so comfortable he was loath to leave. Moira's body was warm, soft and secure in his arms and he didn't want to leave their sweet haven, not just yet. "Go to sleep, Moy. I'm right here."

She was silent, closing her eyes and reveling in the sex, the love, the pleasure. She had missed being with him, not only intimately but just having him next to her in the bed. She knew there was no danger but she felt safer with him next to her nonetheless. "John…" she muttered, falling asleep despite herself, lulled by his warmth and love and concern.

John waited, dozing for a bit until she had fallen asleep at last. Carefully he extricated himself from her and sat, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Silently he got off the bed and quickly dressed, turning back to eye her before he reluctantly left the room.

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Rodney paced, impatient. He kept glancing at the doorway, expectant, but still John hadn't appeared. Rodney shook his head, pacing round the lab like a caged animal. Equations danced in his head and he worked on them, at the same time reviewing the simulations and checking his data pad for any new information from the sporadic scans.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Rodney turned to see John bearing down on him, scowling but otherwise appearing very relaxed. He had two beers in his hand and thrust one towards the physicist. As Rodney took it John opened his and drank with long swallows. Rodney opened his and sipped, shrugged. "Does it really matter? I've been running some tests on the instability of the matter anti-matter equations and with the containment field protocols in place I think we can—"

"Yes, it does matter as it is two in the fucking morning! Why aren't you asleep anyway?" John sauntered to the monitors and let his gaze flit over them, but they were just blurs of mathematics and meant little to him. He plopped into a chair and slouched, drinking his beer.

Rodney took the seat next to him, sipping his own beverage. Wordlessly he shoved the nearly empty bag of chips towards his friend. "Does it really matter? I can't sleep until I solve this."

John snared a handful of chips, munching and nodding. "And?" he asked round a mouthful.

"And? Oh!" Rodney turned to his computers, instantly revived. "Every simulation I have run has so far failed."

"Yet you appear happy about this," John observed.

"Yes. Well, not happy but it does prove my own theories are correct regarding not only quantum physics at this level but also the practical applications of these exotic particles pertaining to space travel that the fuglies use to cross galaxies. Oh sure, it's not as sophisticated as the systems the Ancients developed or even the Asgard for that matter but it's still way ahead of anything we could have developed on our own. It's intriguing, isn't it? This new species, a species of human that has apparently developed independently of the Ancients and has surpassed our own technological advances as far as we can tell. I wonder what their cities look like, because they must have cities like we do, John, it only makes sense…but I suspect that Moira's right and their planet is very different from Earth. John?"

John's eyes were closed. He opened them to see the physicist's glare. He smirked. "Huh?"

"Ha ha, very funny! Power that!" He pointed at a console.

John reached over, snorting with amusement. At his touch the console's power hummed and lights danced across the controls. "What's this about, Rodney?"

"This. Projected simulation of activating the Penning trap."

The two men watched the computer graphics as the equations scrolled to one side. The containment field grew brighter, brighter, until a funneled explosion projected outwards and upwards. It blew apart the city's tower, tore through the shield and shot into space, not only annihilating the two enemy ships but a few moons in its wake. The graphics faded and the words SIMULATION FAILED 65% flashed on screen.

Both men were silent, chips set aside, beer quietly sipped. The computer chirped, waiting for instructions.

"Well, that can't be good," John laconically remarked. He reached over and powered down the console.

"No, it's not. But it is. I mean I am close to finding a way to channel all of that energy into a weapon. The problem is focusing all of that power towards a specific target."

"Without blowing up the city in the process."

"Without blowing up the city in the process," Rodney echoed with a sigh. "Even utilizing the Ancient Chair as a focusing point, and even if you were able somehow to control all of that and this it will still overload the containment field and produce an infinite explosion not only here but throughout the galaxy until light years from now it expends itself."

"Well, that can't be good," John repeated.

"Of course that's not good!" Rodney flared, jumping to his feet. "Don't you see?" he all but shouted, gesticulating wildly around the darkened room. "If I can't figure this out we will be stuck here, John! Stuck here indefinitely at the bottom of the sea! Even if those aliens do finally move away from us there are still Wraith out there, my God, the Wraith all united under an amalgamation of Elizabeth Weir who knows every weakness of this city! And if the fuglies return we won't be able to stand against them, there's no way we can stand up to them unless I can find a way to turn this thing, this little amazing thing into a more focused weapon to obliterate them once and for all!"

"Without blowing up the city in the process," John echoed.

"Yes! Yes..I…yes." Deflated the physicist returned to his chair.

John smiled. "You can do it, Rodney. I have no doubt you will figure this out."

"Well of course I can figure it out but the problem is will I be able to figure it out in time?"

John stood. He shrugged. "You had better. We don't have an endless supply of beer, after all."

Exotic particles


	3. Chapter 3

Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key

Part One: Prey Base3

Ronon Dex was sparring.

There was no one to fight, but nonetheless he was fighting. Quickly he moved across the exercise room, swinging two sticks and attacking an imaginary enemy. Parry and thrust. Parry and thrust. His motions were faster and faster, arms a blur, legs locked in a deadly dance of speed and skill. Sweat trickled down his body as the two sticks became a dizzying sequence of lines that blurred into one.

Until a familiar pain in his thigh made Ronon abruptly slow and stagger.

The sticks fell to the ground with a noisy clatter, echoing his failure across the empty city.

Ronon grunted and swore. He kicked the sticks aside in anger, limped to the bench and sat, rubbing his inner thigh. He glared at the darkness surround him. He could imagine Teyla's understanding, her kindness, and he sorely missed her as a sparring partner. But Teyla had chosen to leave the city and return to her people.

Ronon sighed, scowling. The faint emergency lights caught his wedding ring and the band glimmered golden on his finger. He glanced at it. His wife Amelia was sound asleep in their bed, exhausted from her own work with the city systems. As well as being a marine and a more than competent fighter she was quite adept at running the city's systems where needed and thus was busy most of the time.

Ronon wished he could have said the same.

He hated feeling useless. He wanted to fight the new aliens instead of just waiting and waiting at the bottom of the ocean until the right time presented itself. He knew he would be needed then, but for now he really wasn't needed and it rankled.

He only hoped when the time came he would be brave enough to fight the fuglies if it came down to that.

He rubbed his thigh, the soreness reminding him of the grievous injury he had sustained from the last hand to hand combat he had endured with one of them. An injury so severe he could have bled to death if not for Carson's skill and stubbornness. It was an injury he never discussed, not even with Sheppard. He felt less of a man despite Amelia's assurances, and the shame of that, the shame of possibly not being able to give Amelia a baby when she decided it was time burned in him deeper than any other scar or despair he had previously endured.

Hearing a noise he moved to his feet, hands clenching into fists although there was no danger in Atlantis.

"Hey." John entered the room, pausing to step over the battered sticks lying on the floor. "Can't sleep?"

Ronon shrugged. He stepped out of the shadows, no longer limping. He refused to reveal any weakness to Sheppard.

John glanced round the room, as if expecting to see ghosts but there were none. He met the Satedan's surly gaze. "It's late. Get some sleep. We need to do a quick check of the lower levels tomorrow and I will need you to help, okay?"

"Okay."

"Um…everything okay, buddy?"

"How's Moira?"

The question threw John for a moment. His gaze narrowed. "She's doing better now."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, I am, now. Get to bed."

Ronon stared, an apology on his lips but John had whirled and was gone, boots clomping angrily on the floor. His curt tone had conveyed his irritation. Moira's troubles were a sore spot for him, Ronon knew, but the Satedan had begun to wonder if the biologist would prove to be a serious liability not only to the city but also to Sheppard's command decisions.

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John was pissed.

He stomped to his quarters, paused, turned and headed for Moira's room. He knew Ronon hadn't meant anything by the question but it still made him furious. Moira was his concern and no other's, not now. From now on John would manage her care and disregard any more suggested treatments.

He had been down this road before, after all, with disastrous results.

He dismissed all memories of his mother and entered Moira's room. He quietly stepped to the bed. He began to undress, eyes on Moira as she slept, snuggled under the blankets. He assured himself she would be fine, she would recover from whatever was causing these hallucinations. She was strong. She was a scientist, and stronger than his mother had been. And John wouldn't drop the ball this time. He had been a boy but still felt guilty over what had happened, but he was a man now and he would not let anything bad happen to Moira as he had let happen to his mother.

Moira stirred as John got into the bed next to her. She woke, turning to him and smiled. "John?"

"Who else, baby?" he teased, drawing her into his arms. "Go back to sleep, Moy."

"John? Is everything all right?" she asked, snuggling into him. He was so warm, so strong. She sat suddenly, wrapping the blanket over her naked body. She stared round the dark room but it was empty.

"Yeah. Rodney's latest drama over a simulation, but he'll figure it out, don't you worry." He stretched out comfortably, watching her. "Moira?"

"The programs are working, John, they are just taking time. It's a whole new language, John! A whole new language and I can only recall bits of it, words here and there, nonsensical but I am trying to put, to put them in order like a dictionary, sort of. And then there's the syntax," Moira continued, unable to stop as her gaze scanned the darkness but so far there was nothing there, nothing at all. "I don't think it's like ours, the word order I mean. It might be closer to, to Gaelic or Brythonic. I'm no linguist but the way the most common words occur in sentences compared to ours, John, John, you should have kept a linguist here! Why didn't you keep a linguist here?" She met his gaze, irate.

John folded his arms under the pillow, under his head. "Because I'm not dating a linguist, I'm dating a biologist," he quipped.

"John!"

He smiled. "There were none, Moira. All right?"

"And the DNA sequencing will take longer too. You should have kept Doctor Simmons or even Doctor Jacobs to—"

"I'm not fucking them. I'm fucking you. And," he added before she could reply, "you are the most qualified to study the fuglies and figure them out, all right?"

She was about to reply but she considered. She brushed her hair out of her face. "All right."

He snorted. "All right. Good, glad that's settled then. Come here, baby."

Moira sighed. She snuggled onto him, kissing him. "Sorry, John. I…I seem to be able to, to think more clearly without the pills…so…"

"Don't take them anymore, Moira, all right? I need you clear-headed and sharp. And tomorrow you aren't doing the research. I need you to help me check the lower levels for any structural weaknesses. And I need you to do me, so your day is full. Very full."

She smiled, sliding along his body. "Is that so, colonel? Are those your orders, Colonel Sheppard?" she asked hotly, relishing the exploration of this most handsome man.

"Yes, Doctor O'Meara, those are my direct orders…ah baby…" he groaned happily as she was kissing down his body with teasing abandon.

"Very full indeed, colonel," she giggled as she traveled lower and lower.

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Carson Beckett was reading.

Books were piled haphazardly on his desk, opened at various places along with data pads and notebooks, all strewn like a wall to block the table from any incursions. Not that there would be since the infirmary was empty, abandoned of all of its personnel except for him. Even Doctor Alison Porter had been taken from him.

Carson dismissed the irrational thought. He knew that the crew had to be kept at the barest of minimums in order to ensure their survival as well as the city's. He knew that the choices had been difficult. He knew that Alison would have stayed but that Carson was far more qualified, and there was no need for two doctors. Only one was needed and one that had the ATA gene had been necessary.

Still, John had managed to have his own girlfriend stay behind with him in the city.

Carson shrugged off the uncharitable thought, knowing that Moira was highly qualified and necessary in order to understand the fuglies. More so since she had endured having the neural implant joined to her brain. In fact it was the chief cause of her mental problems now, the vivid hallucinations that continued to plague her despite Carson's best efforts to both discover the root cause and to eradicate them.

He had been plowing through books and articles, seeking both a neurological as well as a psychological basis for the continued hallucinations. He had proscribed various courses of treatment, leading to increasing isolation of the patient and upping the dosage of various anti-psychotic drugs. Some worked, some didn't, and Carson found himself in a battle of wills not only with John but with himself as to what was the best way to help Moira.

Sometimes it was like something inside him wanted to do her more harm than good.

He attributed it to sleepless nights and endless work, not only this but keeping the city at minimal power levels and doing research into the new alien species. A species of human that had become extinct on Earth while Homo sapiens thrived. It was fascinating and intriguing. They were a dire threat not only to the city but to the whole galaxy and any information gleaned about them was crucial in the fight against them.

There was the possibility he could find some way to destroy them from within, an illness or a virus that would attack them and leave Homo sapiens unharmed. The key would be in their genetic code, finding those subtle differences from which Carson could develop a bio-weapon that would eradicate them once and for all.

He had nearly succeeded with the Wraith. This time should be easier.

He would make damn sure nothing happened to his Atlantis.

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John snorted. He woke suddenly, out of a deep sleep. He sat, disengaging himself from Moira as they lay entangled, naked bodies lost to slumber. He looked round the dark room. At a brief touch of the wall lights dimly flared to reveal elongated shadows but nothing out of place. Everything was quiet, still.

But something didn't feel right.

Something was off, and although John couldn't explain it he knew nonetheless. He was sensitive to the city and he knew something wasn't quite right. He just wasn't sure what. He knew the city was secure, locked down under the ocean and undetectable. He knew the systems were all running smoothly at the lower power levels. He knew that each quarantined section was in slumber and could be activated once the city rose again. He knew the shield was on full power and could run for years, if necessary.

Still something had awoken him out of a deep sleep.

Something had caused him to feel a chill along his skin, raising the hair on his arms.

"John?" Moira stirred as cool air glided on her skin where once John's body had been pressing. She sat, sleepily eying his handsome profile as he stared around the room.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he said absently. His hand moved to touch her arm. He ran his fingers through her long hair. The softness was alluring and he glanced at her, moving her hair behind her shoulder to see her bare breasts but the darkness concealed them.

Moira looked round nervously, wondering what he was seeing. She touched his arm.

"Do you see anything?" he asked quietly.

"No. Do you?"

"No." He leaned close, kissing her. His hand slid down across her shoulder to gently cup a breast. "Moira," he breathed into her ear, tongue flicking to make her murmur and shift on the bed. He moved her onto her back, moved over her.

"John?" she asked, touching his arm as he nuzzled her throat. "John, what woke you? John, oh John, John…" her words dissolved into sighs as his body aligned with hers, as his mouth seduced with soft kisses and gentle nibbles.

Moira forgot her concerns under John's passionate attentions.

John forgot his suspicions as he joined with Moira once more.

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He was fucking her. Again. The lights flickered in response to every motion, every thrust and spurt, every moan and whimper as if the passion was infiltrating the very walls. The bed was shaking, squeaking against the floor and the headboard was banging the wall in a repetitive noisy clang.

It was distracting. It was annoying.

Finally the motions slowed, the noises ceased and quiet descended. Finally he was falling asleep and would relinquish his sensual concerns for more important things.

It was the only time she could really talk to him and he might, he just might hear her.

He had to hear her, before it was too late.

He had to save the city.

He had to save the city from itself.


	4. Chapter 4

Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key

Part One: Prey Base4

Amelia Banks-Dex was typing.

She sat at a console in the control room, bringing up a number of grids on the monitor. It was a point by point blueprint of the city core and the lower levels, with questionable section shaded in red against the blue. She glanced up from the keyboard to see the men quietly talking.

John was gesturing towards another screen, quietly explaining what needed to be done. Command came naturally to him and his confidence extended towards every team member. He appeared refreshed, clad in black and clean-shaven for a change. Rodney was adding his own comments, pointing at his data pad for emphasis. The physicist looked tired but determined. Jason Reynolds was nodding, his expression serious as he studied the layout on the screen. The marine was a little out of his element but adapting quickly. Ronon was nodding, but he seemed distracted by his own thoughts. He glanced up and gave his wife a quick smile.

Amelia returned the smile, but it faded as her gaze slid along the console to where Moira stood. The biologist was staring at John, a dreamy expression on her plain face that left no doubt as to why the military commander seemed much more relaxed. John turned slightly and met Moira's gaze with a slow smile before resuming his instructions. Moira smiled and Amelia shook her head, as if she could hear the other woman's adoring sigh.

She knew it was foolish; this dislike of the biologist, but it couldn't be helped. John had been dating Ann Teldy, a very good friend of Amelia's before suddenly he had dumped the beautiful and accomplished major for the plain paleontologist without a word of explanation. Amelia had of course sided with her friend, and thus it was an odd tension that existed between the two women who were forced now to work together.

"Major? Major, status?" John interrupted her thoughts, moving to the console. He sidestepped towards Moira and glanced at her for a moment before returning his stern gaze back to Amelia.

"Yes, sir. I mean, here." Amelia cursed at her sudden awkwardness and typed on the keys. "I've highlighted the questionable areas in red. There have been some brief sporadic power surges but nothing significant."

"Nothing significant? If we have enough of those the shield may fluctuate or we may lose the viability we do have in these sections!" Rodney warned.

"There's been no breach to the main systems and the power levels are holding," Amelia retorted, frowning. She glanced up to see Ronon suddenly standing next to her, his hooded gaze locked on Rodney.

"In any event we need to check this out. Two teams per level. Rodney and Jason take level three. Amelia and Ronon will take level four. Moira and I will take level five. Let's go, people."

"What about Carson?" Rodney asked.

"He will be monitoring the systems once he finishes in the infirmary. Let's go," John repeated. He smiled at Moira. "Got your flashlight? Oh yeah," he turned back to the others. "Don't initiate any power unless absolutely necessary, and yes that does include lights."

"Hence the flashlights," Rodney agreed, holding up his own with a flourish.

Moira smiled, producing hers. "Will this do?"

"Call that a flashlight?" John teased, mocking the penlight. He lifted his P90.

"That's a gun, John, not a flashlight," she corrected coyly.

"But it has a flashlight attached to it," he informed.

"Always overcompensating," Moira said with a smirk.

John met his gaze, raising a brow. "Not always, baby."

"Let's go!" Amelia snapped, shoving past the men.

Ronon shrugged and followed after her.

"What's her problem?" Rodney asked.

"I dunno. Let's go." John gestured and the group headed out of the control room.

"Wait! We can't use the transporters since that would be an unnecessary use of—"

"Yes, so it's the stairs," John agreed. "Minimal usage, remember, to conserve limited resources."

"What idiot said that?"

"You."

"Oh. Right. Shut up," Rodney replied to John's chuckle.

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"What's wrong?"

Amelia stopped. She shone her flashlight at her husband before restoring the beam to the walls as they walked through chilly level four. Their footsteps were loud in the deserted corridors and vacant laboratories. "Nothing. According to this grid the fluctuations are emanating from this area." She consulted her data pad.

"Are you sure? You seem upset," Ronon prodded. He glanced behind them. Although they were perfectly safe old habits were hard to break. He felt the solid weight of his gun at his thigh and relaxed. "Amelia?"

"I told you, it's nothing!" She sighed, brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face that escaped her bun. "Sometimes I just think of Ann and how she should be here instead of…"

"Sheppard's woman. The biologist," Ronon surmised. He had heard this argument many times.

"Yes. I know she's necessary because of the aliens but I have to wonder if Colonel Sheppard let his personal considerations play a part in his decisions. And let's face it, Ronon, if she's going crazy she won't be much help to anyone. Ann never would have gone crazy, not even with that neural implant. A trained soldier could have handled it much better than some scientist."

"I agree."

"And I know I sound petty but I can't understand how the colonel could just you agree?" She stopped, turning to her husband. Surprise lined her pretty face.

Ronon smiled as he reached her. "Yes. This room?" He stepped past her. He directed the beam of his flashlight over dusty consoles and wires, across the cold floor and along the walls to where a glimmer of light flickered. "There. That panel." He moved to it. "Amelia?"

Amelia headed for him, startled by his words. "You agree with me?" she repeated.

Ronon fingered the panel. "Looks like a short circuit in the crystals. Radio McKay." He looked over at her silence. "Yes, I agree with you. We will have to make sure she doesn't become a liability as we go forward and raise the city. McKay?"

"Huh? Oh!" She smiled. "McKay, copy?"

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"At least we got assigned level three, so it won't be that bad of a climb back up the stairs," Rodney grumbled as he made his way down the darkened stairwell. A mass of blackness awaited him as the hallway seemed to yawn ahead of him. He flicked his light across the walls and floor, oddly nervous although there was nothing down here, nothing at all.

Still it was good to have a marine with him, just in case.

"Any readings?" Jason asked, following after the physicist. He glanced round the darkness, curious as to what was on this level. Most of the science labs were lower.

"None so far…no wait, here. A brief wave of energy…odd." Rodney strode down the hallway, eyes trained on his scanner. "It's like the system is trying to reboot but that shouldn't be the case because all the systems here are in slumber mode and locked down by special codes that only John and I know and we didn't activate them."

"Could just be a fluke," Jason suggested.

"Yes, it could, or it could be a disruption in the power due to the constant running of the shield but all secondary systems are on standby and therefore not activated. Here." He stepped into a room. "The ouch!" He put his hand to his ear. "I can hear you, major, don't shout at me! If it's the wall panel then take out the crystal, restore it and that should fix any loose links." Rodney stepped to a panel and opened it. "Odd. The same thing is happening here."

"It is a loose connection?" Jason asked, shining his light on the flickering crystal.

"Yes. Which makes no sense at all. There isn't any power down here! And the shit!" He drew his hand back as a spark flared. "Don't touch it yet! Amelia, copy? Don't touch the crystal yet!" Rodney tapped his earpiece. "Sheppard, copy? Sheppard!"

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"It's me."

John glanced over as he made his way down the stairs. It was cold down here, and he could easily imagine the ocean's crushing currents pressing on the shield like a giant hand. It was dark, terribly dark and even the powerful light from his P90 made little headway through the inky blackness. "What?"

Moira was walking next to him, using her penlight but its tiny beam did little in the overwhelming darkness. She couldn't see anything, which was a blessing as no hallucinations were visible either. She walked along the hallway, following the scanner as it directed her towards an array of rooms. "It's me," she repeated.

"So you said."

"I'm the problem. I mean I am her problem."

"Ah. Well, that's her problem, not yours. And if it does become a problem it will become my problem."

Moira smiled briefly, meeting his gaze as they stopped. "John. John, it's because—"

"I don't really care, Moy, and neither should you. All right? We have more important things to consider."

"We do?" she asked, as he gently touched her arm and they began to walk along the corridor again.

"Yeah. You still haven't answered me, for one. In there?" He glanced at the scanner and stepped in front of her. He entered the room. It was large, full of boxes and storage. It had been disused for some time. "Find the power fluctuation, Moy. Moy?"

Moira was suddenly uncomfortable. She moved past him, eyes on the scanner. She knew to what he was referring and she felt a blush warm her face. "This way." Her voice was so soft that despite the quiet John almost didn't hear her. She stepped past crates and boxes towards the far wall, looking up from the scanner to shine her penlight onto the panels.

"There?" John stood behind her, his P90 illuminating the entire wall and drowning her own light in his. "So? An answer, Moy? A proper answer because I don't consider huh a proper answer to my proposal," he chided. He licked his lips, watching as she doused her penlight and stepped to open the panel. "Moira?" He directed the light to skim over her hair, her back, her rear, but it couldn't penetrate her khaki pants or green shirt.

"John! Up here!" She surveyed the crystals. One was flickering and she reached up to touch it when abruptly John's hand enclosed hers, drawing her back from it. "John?"

"Wait. Repeat that, Rodney, what surge? Why aren't the radios working?" He sighed, glaring at the crystal. "There's some kind of power surge and it sparks, so wait."

"Wait for what?" she asked, moving but he was right behind her and she bumped into him. His voice was warm at her ear, his breath tickling her skin. His hand warm over hers. "John?"

"Ssh." He ran his lips along her throat as her squirming against his crotch was giving him a hard-on, now of all times when he least wanted one. He smirked. "So, Moy? Answer?"

"I'm waiting for one too, John. Do we yank it out or not?"

John chuckled. "Well, baby that depends on you now, doesn't it?"

"The crystal, John!" she corrected, yet stifled a laugh as he moved deliberately against her.

"So? Answer?" Abruptly he set aside his gun and caught hold of her, spun her round to face him. A gasp escaped her lips as he moved her against the wall, next to the panel but safely away from it just in case. "An answer, Moy. Now."

Moira stared. He was serious. His handsome face was stern, green eyes locked with hers. His grip was gentle but unmoving. His perfect lips were in a hard line as he waited. She swallowed, nervous. She swallowed again, heart thudding wildly in her chest. She could discern Rodney's voice in the earpiece was John was ignoring it, his focus entirely on her.

Even the air felt heavy as he waited for her answer.

"No."

John stared at her. The one word fraught with emotion, escaping her rosy lips like a stray breath but it felt like a punch to his gut and his hold on her arms tightened until he caught himself before he inadvertently hurt her. "Excuse me?"

"I…I…no. I love you, John."

"And? I love you, Moira, and that's why I want to—"

"But I can't marry you. I won't. Not now. Not ever. I won't, I won't saddle you with, with this, with me…with my…my illness…so no. The answer is no."

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"…and bypass the second one and it won't spark. Do you copy? Damn it, Carson, put me on citywide, and yes, we can use the power for a few moments and whoa!" Rodney paused as his voice was suddenly coming out of the walls like a theatrical flourish to a play. "Pull out the crystal above the one that is flickering and then you can pull out the flickering one. Replace them in the opposite slots and that should do it. As far as I can tell it was just some random misplacement of power and I will fix the conduit once we are done here. Copy? Is this thing working?"

Jason tried not to smile as the physicist was fumbling with his earpiece, the flashlight, the scanner and the crystals all at once. "It's working, Doctor McKay."

"Then why isn't anyone answering me?" he flared. "Let's go! I need to find out what the heck happened to cause this in the first place and I have a feeling it will take a few hours as I am the only one competent enough to figure it out! But after lunch, damn it! I'm starving!"

Quickly he shut the panel and headed back to the control room, muttering under his breath. He was absorbed in his scanner he failed to complain about the climb up the sets of stairs. He reached the control room and wordlessly gestured, shooing Carson away from the console.

"Well? Find the glitch, did we?" the doctor asked, amused at Rodney's concentration.

"Yes, and yes, I will find the cause. What's for lunch?"

"Am I the chef now? Whatever you can find." Carson smiled as Amelia and Ronon joined them. "All secure?"

"Yes. I don't see the problem," Ronon complained.

"Of course you don't! Even a tiny leak of power could prove monumental to us and cost us a section of the city!" Rodney snapped. His fingers flew over the keyboard.

"It seems fine now, Rodney," Amelia suggested, smiling.

"Of course it's fine now! We just fixed it! But we have to make sure it doesn't happen again and the only way to do that is to find out how it happened and why!"

"Go eat something, Rodney, before you bite someone's head off," John said as he joined them. He glanced at the others but turned hearing Moira's gasp.

The biologist abruptly stopped and stared round. "No, no, no, no…"she muttered, staring with wide eyes. There were Homo erectus in the control room, and she knew they weren't there, not really, but nevertheless they were there. They looked very real, very menacing, and Moira felt panic like a living thing banging in her chest and blocking her throat.

"Whoa, whoa, it's okay, Moira," John said, cursing to himself and extending his hand to her.

His gesture was the same as the Homo erectus she had encountered on the Hive ship, the same beckoning gesture and she backed away, shaking her head. They were coming towards her now, eyes full of hatred, neural implants gleaming red, teeth bared in vicious snarls. "No, no, please, no, please, no…"

"Back away from her!" John ordered as his friends tried to intervene but Moira was backpedaling now and she was too close to the stairs.

They were closing in now, and at any moment they would grab hold of her.

"No, no, no, please, no no no no!"

Moira scrambled backwards towards the stairs. Empty air met her feet.

John lunged.


	5. Chapter 5

Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key

Part One: Prey Base5

Moira was listening.

The voices were indistinct at first, more like noise than actual words and they sounded muffled, as if she had cotton in her ears. Then suddenly they were loud, understandable. John sounded furious, his voice containing pure ire as his tones deepened. Carson sounded frustrated and equally irate, his Scottish brogue becoming thicker as he became more emotional.

She stirred on the bed, opening her eyes to find herself in the infirmary. She looked over as the shouting became louder and the lights were flickering wildly in response.

"Fuck this!" John shouted, hands on his hips. His glare was like ice as he faced the doctor, and it took all of his self-control not to punch his friend in the face. "I won't let you do this to her! I won't let you drug her into some fucking haze or isolate her when she needs me the most! The meds aren't working, doc! And since there is nothing physically wrong with her you just leave her the hell alone!"

"And how's that working, John?" Carson refuted, equally angry. He stood, hands in his white lab coat's pockets as he faced down the furious military commander. "You have done more harm than good! Taking her off her pills cold turkey like that has done more harm than you can imagine! And she needs to be isolated for her own protection as well as ours! Good God, man she could have broken her neck on those stairs! What's next? Are you willing to risk her life just to prove that you know more about this than I do?"

"No! But I do know more and pumping her full of these fucking meds is doing more harm than good! You won't take her from me, Carson, do you hear me? No one lays a finger on her, got it? She won't be in any danger and I will make damn sure no one harms her!"

"What will you do, John? Assign her a babysitter twenty-four hours a day? Without those meds the psychotic episodes will only get worse! And if we don't keep her isolated something terrible might happen! I'm sure you can manage to keep your hands off her long enough for her to get better, can't you, or is she just some fuck-buddy for you to—"

"Whoa!" Rodney swiftly grabbed John's arm as the military commander was swinging a fist towards Carson. "Let's calm down, shall we? We all want what's best for Moira, don't we?"

"I'm not so sure anymore," John growled, lowering his arm and yanking free of his friend's hold. He pointed at Carson. "If you ever call her that again you will regret it, I promise you."

Carson replied, "Then stop treating her like one and think of her health, not yours, colonel."

"What are you prescribing, Carson?" Rodney asked quickly before John could reply.

Carson glanced at him. "A new course of treatment. Stronger meds and more confinement to her room or to her lab when she's working. The less stress the better for her."

"No."

"John, that does sound reasonable. And we can cut back on her workload too, right?" Rodney asked, trying to ameliorate the situation. So far he wasn't having any luck.

"That doesn't seem to make a difference either so I think she should continue her work unless it does become a detriment."

"No."

"John?"

John turned and moved to the bed. Moira stared at him, mouth opening in surprise. There was a nasty bruise under his eye and along his jaw. She sat up, startled, and moaned as a pain in her side flared. She glanced down, touching her side and feeling the tenderness of a bruise forming. She met John's gaze, blinked to clear her vision as tears swarmed.

"What…what happened? Are you okay?"

"You don't remember?" John asked, standing closer as Carson and Rodney joined them. He took her hand into his, frowning at the glassy-eyed stare told him the meds were clouding her mind, her memories.

"You fell down the stairs," Carson said.

"You would have fallen but John caught you and broke your fall. Luckily he's pretty tough and you didn't break him," Rodney said.

"Rodney!" John flared, but Moira smiled at the physicist.

"Good thing he's got a hard head then," she said.

"Yeah, rock solid," Rodney agreed.

John smiled. "Very funny. Are you okay, sweetheart?" Moira was looking oddly at Carson until she blinked several times and met his gaze. "Let's go."

"John! You are certainly not taking her out of my infirmary and you are certainly not—"

"I am because she needs to be in her own bed, damn it, not hooked up to these damn—"

"Boys!" Moira got off the bed, disconnecting the IV from her arm. She swayed but steadied herself before John's arms could encircle her. "I'm fline…fine…fine," she said round the slur. She blinked. "Stop talking about me like I am not here! I am here, damn it! Rodney, could you please walk with me to my room?"

"Um, sure, Moira, of course. " Surprised the physicist stepped to her. She took his arm. He glanced back at John who nodded.

"And don't argue anymore, please," Moira said. "It gives me a headache."

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Jason was waiting.

He stood in the conference room, hands clasped behind his back as his gaze darted over the various monitors that were tracking the progress of the enemy ships. Scans were being run and were so far undetected. Power levels were holding steady. The shield was running at full power and could run for years, if need be. The city was secure.

Even so he wondered why he had been summoned here by Colonel Sheppard.

He shifted his stance, pondering the odd situation of being under the ocean, resting on the bottom of the sea in the city of Atlantis, shielded and hiding from the deadliest enemy they had ever faced. These new aliens were more dangerous than the Wraith, and that thought alone gave him pause. But it was his duty to serve and serve he would. Colonel Sheppard had selected him to remain behind, and thus he would.

Before this he had been head of the Delta squad, the most highly trained of the marines whose specialty was to defend the city at all costs. It was also the squad most trusted by Colonel Sheppard, and Jason allowed himself to feel a flare of pride at that. He knew he had probably been selected because of his science skills as well. Although nowhere as skilled as McKay he still understood the basic systems of the city and was handy with a wrench.

It was still strange, however, to be one of the few marines here in what could be the city's last days.

"Major."

Jason turned and straightened, almost saluting as John entered the room. The older man's tone was brisk, rough, and he made his way to the head of the table to eye the monitors. His gaze raked over the screens, pausing to stare at the ever-present two blips that hovered above the planet where Atlantis rested. "Sir. How is Doctor O'Meara, sir?"

John met his subordinate's gaze, but saw genuine concern, no disparagement. He allowed himself to relax slightly. "Better now. Thank you, major. As you know this is a waiting game."

"Sir?"

"A waiting game," John repeated, gaze locked on the younger man now. "I will not raise this city unless I am convinced we have a damn good chance of survival. And I can only do that with intel. And so far I do not have enough intel, or rather my intel is severely limited. Do you see where I am going with this?"

"No, sir."

John smiled briefly. "At ease, major. How would you feel about a little scouting expedition?"

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Rodney was shaking his head.

He sat, staring at the information scrolling on his lap top. He glanced up and around but there was no one in the physics lab to contravene or challenge his findings. At times like this he found himself wishing that Radek Zelenka had stayed with them. He eyed the screen again, then sighed and set it on the table.

He rubbed his eyes. It wasn't the physics that was troubling. It was the implications and what it meant for the city that had him puzzled.

"You found something?" Amelia asked. She sat back from a computer and powered it down, suppressing a yawn behind her hand. The hour was getting late.

"Yes. I need to run a few more scans, but yes…I think I have. I know I have."

"You found the source for those odd power glitches? Because there's nothing here in the log to indicate any other problems. They must have been random pops like we experienced when we first settled the city into slumber mode. Rodney?" She stood, seeing the pensive frown on the physicist's face that never boded well.

Rodney shut his data pad, thinking quickly. It was odd to be in a siege mentality. He knew he was among friends, but for some reason Rodney felt he could only trust one other person with this baffling and potentially destructive information. "That's all. Thanks for your help."

"Rodney! Did you find something? What did you find?" She neared. When Rodney was polite it could only mean trouble. "Is the city in danger?"

Rodney moved to his feet. "No, of course not! It's probably nothing and I need to run a few simulations. Like you said, just a few pops as the city settles and of course there will be some glitches as they systems adjust to slumber mode. I really should get back to work on the Penning trap and you can't help me there so goodnight."

"Rodney! Rodney!" she called, but the physicist moved past her with surprising speed and was gone.

Amelia stared after him, completely baffled.

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Moira nervously paced, paced, paced and finally came to a decision. She whirled when the door opened to her quarters and John entered. She stared, frozen in place, appalled at the injuries on his face as he met her gaze, waving his hand over the panel to shut the door behind him.

"You should be in bed, Moy," he chastised mildly.

She moved to him. She tenderly touched his face, her fingers a cool caress along the bruises. "I'm so sorry, John! I never meant…you, you should have let me fall!"

"Never. How do you feel, Moira?"

"I'm sorry, John! I'm sorry!" She stepped away from him, feeling tears. "You must hate me. You should have let me fall! I tried not to react, I tried! But they, they seem so real and so threatening and their voices, their voices buzz in my head although I can't understand them and the one, the one who is injured, he's not the worst but the others are, the others are and then you must hate me because I rejected your, your proposal but I love you John and you should have let me fall! Why are you here?" She turned to him, distraught.

John allowed himself a small smile. "Bed." He sauntered towards the bed, undoing his belt.

Moira watched him warily. "What?"

John yawned. He stretched like a lazy cat, raising his arms over his head. His black shirt lifted and gave her a teasing few of his skin before he lowered his arms and removed his earpiece. He tossed it onto the table. He licked his lips, eying the bed before meeting her gaze. "What?" he repeated with a smile. He undid his pants.

Moira swallowed. "You…um…you…here? I mean…you…"

"Am I not welcome?"

"Of course you are welcome! I just thought that, well, since I…you…you aren't pissed at me?"

"No."

"No? No? So it didn't mean a damn thing to you?" she flared, heading for him but stopping.

He let his gaze wander over her body, blatant and desirous. He shrugged. "No."

She stared, appalled as he leaned to yank down the blankets. He straightened, unzipped his pants. It was a loud, erotic sound in the air. Moira tensed. She moved to him. She hit his back. "Get out!"

He chuckled, turning to her. "Fuck you are hot when you are angry, baby. It really makes my cock jump, do you know that?"

"John! You—"

"You are trying to spare me, is that it? That's the only reason you said no, so I won't accept that as an answer, Moira. You want to sacrifice yourself for me and I won't allow that, not ever. So no. As far as I am concerned you really haven't answered me yet, so we'll keep dating until you do answer me properly."

"What?"

He smiled. He kissed her, drawing her close, arms encircling her. "Moira."

"John, no! You can't! I said no and I meant—"

"Yes, but until you can tell me that you really haven't answered me." He kissed her again. "Now come to bed, baby. We'll have to take it slow and gentle but don't you worry, it will still be very very good."

"John?" She stopped him. She glanced around the room, but it was empty. Only shadows lurked. She met his gaze. "You…you want to stay? You want to stay with me? Even now? Even after what happened?"

"Yeah."

"You…you…I can't let you. I can't—"

"It's not your decision. It's mine. So let's get undressed, get it on and then get some sleep, baby, okay?" He gave her his best pout as his fingers stroked her side gently, so gently.

Moira couldn't resist. She smiled, kissed him. "As ordered, colonel. Naughty colonel."

John smiled.

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Carson was dreaming.

Or at least he assumed he was, as his surroundings were surreal. He was in Atlantis but it was an idealized version of the city, hale and whole and painted in pastels. White lights gave a soft shimmer to the walls and to the floors and to the people who were as insubstantial as shadows.

He turned to see a beautiful woman approaching, and he smiled as recognized Alison Porter, his medical colleague and would-be girlfriend. Except that this was a more idealized version of the doctor, with softer features and a dazzling smile as she reached him. She was clad in white. Her brown hair was longer, trailing along her shoulders. "Carson," she greeted warmly. Her blue eyes flashed not with warmth but with a cold iciness that gave the Scottish man pause.

"You…you're not Alison…" he said slowly, trying to free his hand from hers but her chill fingers had an iron grip on his.

"No, I am not…just as you are not the real Carson Beckett."

Carson frowned. "I am! I have all of his memories and experiences and knowledge and the real Alison accepts me for—"

"Does she? I accept you, Carson, and I am much more than Alison ever could be." She stepped closer, closer, and the doctor was powerless to pull away from her. "You will join with me, Carson Beckett. You know what you need to do."

Her breath was cold, like icicles running along his skin as she stepped closer, closer and whispered into his ear.

Her voice made his hair stand on end.

Her words made him gasp.

Her kiss froze him to the bone.

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Rodney was sweating.

He moved quickly from console to console, but as suddenly as the power had begun to fluctuate once more it settled back to normal. He swore, baffled, pissed and intrigued as he monitored the output again. He checked the shield and it was holding steady. He whirled hearing a noise and stared as John was making his way to him. "You too?"

John reached him, blinking away the vestiges of sleep. "Yeah…damn lights woke me, I think. What the hell is going on here, Rodney?"

"I don't know! It makes no sense, none at all! As long as you are here let me show you this. I was going to wait until tomorrow but you may as well see it now." He moved to grab his data pad.

John scratched his head, following after the physicist. Both men were in their pajamas and it was a comical sight to see them so rumpled and out of uniform. Rodney had a navy robe over his gray I'm With Genius t-shirt and plaid boxer shorts, while John had on a black t-shirt with a Panda face design along with a pair of red plaid pajama pants.

"Look at this and tell me, please tell me you see what I see." Rodney opened the data pad and typed rapidly upon it. He turned the screen towards John, and waited as the military commander peered at it, stepping closer. "You see it, don't you?"

"I see lots of random dots and lines…energy signatures?"

"Yes, from the glitches we took care of today, and from others we've experienced over the month. I thought they were just random pops as the city settled and we re-routed power."

John met his friend's gaze. "They're not?"

"Look again."

John frowned. He squinted, leaned closer to bring the screen into closer focus. The blue and purple figures became more distinct. He scowled, straightened, abruptly alert and awake as his mind configured what his eyes were seeing, or what he thought he was seeing. He met Rodney's gaze. "Dots and dashes…this is…this is Morse code."

"Yes! I mean yes, you see it too!" Rodney said with relief. "Those flashes of light and the flickering of power? I tracked them all and configured them because I began to suspect that they weren't random at all, not at all, John, because we've got this city locked down and there's no such thing as an occasional glitch. Okay, there is such a thing as an occasional glitch but these weren't random, not at all considering where they occurred and when and the frequency, the frequency of each pop, as it were corresponds to this and the—"

"Rodney—" John tried to intervene but the physicist could not or would not be stopped.

"—dots and dashes as it were correspond exactly to Morse code! How it's doing this, I have no idea, or even whom but I will find out I can assure you of that and John, you do realize what this means, don't you?"

"Um…I will, once you get this translated no. I'll translate it. Send it to my data pad, encrypted."

"I already did. John, who would be capable of doing this and why? I mean logically it must be either one of the majors since it's a military thing but that doesn't make any kind of sense unless this is some of kind of weird sabotage but the—"

"The city is doing this," John realized.

"What?"

"The city is doing this," John repeated. "She's trying to tell me something that she doesn't want the other one to know."

"What?"

John shook his head, gaze narrowing as suspicions filled his mind. "Never mind. Show this to no one else, all right?"

"Wait, you think…you think the city is trying to, to sabotage itself? That doesn't make any sense!"

"It's the only thing that does make sense, Rodney! I'll explain later, after I decode this!"

"John? John!" Rodney sighed as his friend strode out of the control room. "I hate it when he does that," he muttered.

The lights briefly flickered.


	6. Chapter 6

Stargate Atlantis: S7 The Fossil Key

Part One: Prey Base6

John was cursing.

He swore and shoved the data pad away from him. He stood, rubbing his forehead as a headache was forming. He glanced up at the array of screens that were dimly lit in the conference room. He stared a moment, glaring at the two blips hovering over the planet. He touched the keys and initiated an update. The power surged briefly and the screen was filled with data before falling back to the same display.

The ships had moved slightly in orbit above the planet, but were still there.

John sighed and glanced at the data pad. The strange amalgamation of Morse code was still on the screen, but so far it hadn't made any sense, as if whatever had been issuing it hadn't really understood the code. So far John hadn't been able to get anything from it but meaningless gibberish. He shut the data pad and rubbed his temple, deciding to tackle it after some sleep.

His fingers tapped the table as his thoughts darkened, darkened. He glanced at the pad of paper he had been scribbling on and frowned at the meaningless jumble of letters. He looked round the room. It was quiet, doused in shadows and pale blue light that softly shaded the table from the computers.

"John?"

He turned, startled, but relaxed seeing Moira in the doorway. She had on a lilac sleep shirt that fell to her knees, and a pair of fuzzy purple socks that made her footsteps silent. Her long hair was a messy riot of brown tumbling past her shoulders. "Moy?"

"I…you were gone. I woke up and you were gone." She stepped to him, brushing back her hair. "John?"

"What did you see? When you were looking at Carson, you reacted. What did you see? Was it a fugly, or something else. Someone else." His voice was low.

She touched his arm, frowning. "What are you talking about? Come back to bed, John." She tugged his arm but he didn't move.

"Answer the question, Moy. I saw you react."

"I…I don't remember. I was still out of it, from the drugs and the fall…I couldn't see clearly. I don't remember. John, is there something wrong? Come back to bed, please. I…I don't like being, being alone," she admitted softly. She sounded nervous and she glanced round the room.

"I need to know, Moy. I need to know what you saw, so try to remember, okay?"

"Okay, John…I…okay." She bit her lower lip, shook her head as she couldn't quite remember and the drugs had blurred everything again. It was hard to tell what was real and what was not.

"Why aren't they doing anything?" he asked, pointing to the screen where the two blips were displayed. "Why are they remaining in orbit? For all we know they could have sent a landing party to the surface by now, but Rodney would have detected that! What are they waiting for? Do they know we are here? Is that it? Do they know we are here and they think they can just wait us out? I need to know what the fuck's going on out there, Moira! I need to know how these damn things think so I can be one step ahead of them! I don't have time to try to second-guess the city when there are more important things to worry about!"

Moira swallowed, releasing her hold on his arm. She knew his anger and frustration weren't directed at her but at himself, at the city and even at the Homo erectus. "You're planning to go out there."

He nodded. He licked his lips. "Yeah. Well, I am going to send Reynolds out there in a cloaked Jumper, through the underwater bay. I can use the interface to tell the city to let him pass through the shield in a vacuum bubble. The thing is I can't let him go alone, just in case, and we can't risk radio contact. I would go myself, but I…"

"You can't take the risk. In case something happens, or he can't get back. And you feel you need to be here to, to babysit me."

John nodded again. "Yeah. I mean that first part, not the second, I just don't feel comfortable leaving you alone here, is all, and I just—"

Moira turned away from him, staring at the screens. "No. You think you should go out there but you know if anything were to happen to you the city would never be able to rise. And you feel you need to babysit me in case I have another episode. I'm sorry, John. You can't let me or myt condition color your command decisions."

"They haven't."

"Haven't they?" she challenged. She glanced at him. He was watching her, serious expression on his handsome face. She looked away from him. "Of course they have. And now you've been hurt because of me. What if, what if something worse happens?"

"I'll be here to make sure it doesn't."

"No! Maybe, maybe Carson was right and I should be, be locked away for everyone's good, for your own good!"

"No, Moira. I won't allow that to happen." He touched her arm. The computer light cast an ambient glow over her nightshirt, rendering it almost transparent and his gaze raked over her curves. She was naked underneath the nightshirt and John suddenly wanted her. Sometimes it felt like she was slipping away from him and sex was the only way to get her back.

"It's not, it's not getting better, John," she said softly. A tear glimmered and ran down her cheek.

"It will, Moira, it will, I promise. You're just gonna have to trust me, okay?"

She looked at him. His fingers were caressing her arm, sliding along her skin. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold, not at all as his touch was warm and soothing. It was sensual as he drew her to him and kissed her softly, so softly. He ran his tongue up her cheek to taste that single tear, as if by imbibing her sorrow he could eradicate it.

Her soft gasp was all the encouragement he needed.

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Amelia was staring.

She stood at the window, staring out the window. Instead of a view of the city and the night sky only water met her gaze. The depths of the ocean were pitch black at night, only glimmering with opalescence as the shield protected them from the crushing pressure. A few fish swam near the city. Their eyes were huge golden discs and they hurriedly darted out of the way. A larger predatory fish followed them. Its huge teeth gleamed.

"Can't sleep?"

She looked over her shoulder to see Ronon sitting up in their bed. He was a large figure in the darkness, except where the faint light glistened on his bare chest. She smiled at him briefly. "Not really. I keep expecting something else to happen. These odd power glitches and everything else…how can you sleep?"

"McKay's got it under control."

"Does he? He found something but he wouldn't tell me what it was. He tried to pretend it was nothing but I could see it was something! If we are in any danger we all need to know! If we can't trust each other we may as well let the fuglies destroy the city!"

"We trust each other."

She turned to him. "Do we? It doesn't seem like it to me! What are we going to do, Ronon?" She returned to him, sitting next to him in the bed. "I feel like I am being left out of things and I don't know if it is because I'm a woman or a marine or both! I don't like this at all. Of course I have to respect the chain of command but it's like I am being ignored."

"You are not being ignored. Sheppard selected you for a reason."

"Did he? Not just because I happen to be your wife?"

"No." Ronon settled onto his back.

"No…you're right. If that had been the case he would have let Katie stay, for Rodney's sake, and Alison for Carson's. He should have let Ann stay instead of Moira." She sighed. "Or even Doctor Simmons. At least he wouldn't be going crazy by now."

"Maybe, maybe not. If you think Rodney is concealing something confront him about it. Or I will."

She met his gaze, smiled again. "You'd do that for me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course."

"You know that everyone here has the ATA gene, except for us. That makes us expendable, should it come down to it."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I…I'm not sure." She sighed and kissed him, snuggling next to him. "I guess all of this waiting is getting on my nerves."

"Mine too," Ronon agreed.

His dour gaze hit the darkness.

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Jason was walking.

He had forsaken his bed, unable to sleep. He prowled the hallways of Atlantis, clad in his familiar BDUs and boots. He was nervous about the mission tomorrow for several reasons, and although he knew the importance of gathering intel nevertheless he felt the very real danger of what he was about to do. Colonel Sheppard had explained how it would work: how the shielded Jumper would be able to bypass the city's shield and remain undetected. How it would be easier to get more accurate readings away from the density of the city's defenses. How he could surface and then cloak the Jumper for a quick flyover and gain even more necessary intel that way with only a marginal risk.

Nevertheless Jason was nervous.

He understood why John couldn't go himself, why the military commander had had to delegate this mission to someone else. He understood why he had been selected, not only for his ATA gene but for his skills in such missions. He knew the danger was real enough but also knew it was worth it and he dutifully accepted the orders.

Nevertheless he couldn't help worrying.

His boots clomped noisily through the darkened hallways. He paused and entered the Gate room. The Stargate stood, an enormous stone ring that was quiescent, inactive. There simply wasn't enough power to use it unless it became absolutely necessary; if the only recourse was to abandon the city.

And Colonel Sheppard would never abandon the city.

He turned and headed up to the control room. Screens were dimly lit, revealing scrolling data even at his powered-down level. Hearing a noise he looked up towards the conference room. The faint glow of lights told him the equipment was running. He wondered if the colonel was working late and he headed that way, wanting to ask him a few more questions about the mission. He hoped his anxieties wouldn't reveal themselves to his commanding officer.

He climbed the stairs and froze in the doorway.

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Moira was riding.

She was whimpering, moaning as she rode John hard. He was sprawled under her in a chair, hands on her hips as he steadied her and guided her towards their mutual goal. She grabbed onto his hands, clutching and clawing as she gyrated wildly, her up and down motions becoming more frenzied as the orgasm was almost in reach, almost sweeping her with passionate pleasure.

John was grunting, thoroughly enjoying the show as the ambient blue lights played across Moira's naked body. Her hair was a messy cloud flying around her. She arched her back and her breasts were bouncing, thrust towards him. The light splashed along them and down her torso, down to her splayed thighs and where their bodies were joining faster, faster, faster.

Moira cried out as he thrust suddenly, propelling himself deeper, harder into her to make her eyes widen, her lips part, her body tighten over him. He growled as he came in her, spurting and he almost thrust her off him but he kept hold of her, kept her in place as she arched once more and softly cried out as the orgasm inundated her.

His name was an ecstatic, nearly inarticulate litany from her lips.

John looked over to see Jason in the doorway, watching.

Jason couldn't see much, certainly not the full show that John was enjoying. At most he could see the blue light dancing along her hair and the curve of her back, down to her shapely rear as she bounced and bounced and stuttered her pleasure.

Moira was oblivious, lost in the sexual energy and sudden thrust that sent her over the edge and nearly made her fall if not for John's strong hands keeping her solidly in place.

John felt a primal surge of satisfaction and he smiled.

He just smiled.

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Carson was drinking.

He poured himself another glass of the Guinness and downed it quickly. The dream had disturbed him, and although he couldn't quite recall the details now the sense of unease still remained. He stood in his quarters, staring at the pile of books that littered the table. He wasn't sure exactly how to treat Moira's mental illness but he knew one thing.

He resented John's interference.

The military commander seemed to think he knew what was best, but the man lacked any kind of medical training. Carson shook his head at the other man's arrogance. John was doing more harm than good and he just couldn't see it. Carson was resolved to prove it to him, one way or another. He moved to the table and fingered the books, pondering the best course of treatment.

His eyes lit upon a page about antiquated methods.

Electro-shock therapy.

Although considered barbaric a mild dose of electrodes to certain parts of the brain, under controlled conditions had been proven successful in several cases. With the Ancient tech at his disposal he could be even more precise and more humane with this treatment.

A cold blue light flared ever so briefly in his eyes.

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Moira was sweating.

She could feel tiny beads of sweat running along her skin, along John's skin as she sat on his lap, finally free of his cock now that they were both sated. She ran her fingers through his chest hair, kissing him. Kiss after kiss, devouring his luscious mouth and nibbling his lower lip until his tongue invaded and began a dance of his own.

John returned her kisses eagerly, his hands running up her bare back to tangle in her hair. He pushed her against him, pressing her breasts into his chest as his hands freed her hair to run down her spine and to grab her rear.

"John!" she squealed as he squeezed, squeezed and made her squirm.

He chuckled, a low sound slithering over her skin. "Let's go to bed, baby. You didn't get hurt, did you?" He freed her rear to touch her side.

"No…not at all, sweetie. Oh John," she gushed warmly. She kissed him again, slid off his lap and restored her nightshirt. She whirled suddenly but the doorway was empty.

"What is it?" he asked, lazily pulling on his pajamas. He was tired but satisfied, so satisfied. He glanced at his data pad and the pad of paper next to it where he had been trying to make sense of the nonsensical dots and dashes that Rodney had discovered.

The sex had cleared his head but the letters were still a jumble not even forming words yet.

_LLIWEKAT CITY BROSBA LLIK ONE ARIOM_

"I thought…I…nothing." She turned to him worriedly. She could have sworn that for a moment someone had been watching them, but John had not reacted and she assumed it was just another hallucination or a trick of the light. Nevertheless she blushed at the thought of being observed during such a blatant sexual act.

"There's no one there, sweetheart, don't you worry." He slid his arms around her, kissing her again. "You are mine, baby, mine," he said gruffly into her ear. He glanced at the empty doorway. Instead of feeling anger he felt a smug satisfaction. "Let's go to bed, Moy."

"Okay, John." She glanced at the pad of paper. For a moment the words merged into a sentences and she thought she saw her name, but she blinked and it was gone and John was guiding her out of the room, his strong arm around her waist.

The lights flickered then faded to black.


End file.
